


Command Me

by reellifejaneway



Series: Dragon Age: One-Shots [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dominance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Masturbation, PWP, Shameless Smut, Vaginal Sex, War table, i'm not even sorry, request, troop movements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 11:13:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2770931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reellifejaneway/pseuds/reellifejaneway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The way she says it is what riles him - her hands pressed down on the war table and her shoulders angled just so. She's been torturing him throughout the entire meeting. Now she levels a new challenge at him. Luckily for her, Cullen is only too ready to accept...</p><p>Follows on from "Whispers in the Dark" and is my second-ever DA:I fiction request. Laela Trevelyan belongs to the fabulous rihouston. Cullen and the wonderful world of Thedas belong to Bioware. I'm just a fangirl who can't let go. ^_^</p>
            </blockquote>





	Command Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rihouston](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=rihouston).



“I propose deploying a small group of agents along the marsh to the north of the village. They could observe the enemy troop movements and send a report back to the keep. If necessary, they could make a calculated attack on the encamp—”

“Tis a reckless plan, Leliana.” Josephine cut her off by folding her arms, a scowl playing across her otherwise soft features. “By sending a convoy of diplomatic mediators we could stem this conflict before it truly begins.”

“And if they fail?” The auburn-haired spymaster shook her head adamantly, her smooth Orlesian accent trilling smoothly off the walls. “You and I both want what is best for these townsfolk, Josephine, but diplomacy simply will not appeal to these rebels. If we must take action, let it be swift and silent.”

Josephine put a hand to her forehead, sighing in despair. “And if your spies are caught? There will be bloodshed! Bloodshed that we may yet avoid.”

“Commander,” Leliana entreated, “What is your perspective on this siege?”

When no reply came, both advisors turned upon their companion expectantly.

Cullen was standing toward the centre of the war table. But instead of his usual straightened posture, his head was bowed slightly and hands folded over his belt. His pauldrons masked the lower half of his cheeks. Yet, from her angle, Leliana could make out the faintest tinge of a blush through the dark fur. Cullen’s eyes were locked firmly on the opposite wall instead of paying attention to the current debate.

The very same wall, Leliana noted, that Inquisitor Trevelyan just happened to be leaning against.

Leliana’s eyes followed Cullen’s line of sight to discover that the Inquisitor was equally distracted. The mage’s posture was twisted slightly, her waist curving into a rather provocative angle, and her face, while not turned directly toward the table, was burning a vivid shade of crimson.

 “Ser Cullen? Are you quite well?” Leliana chanced an interruption, noting with silent amusement the couple’s startled expressions as they slipped back into their formal roles.

“Of c-course,” Cullen corrected himself. He forced his shoulders back and shot a harsh glance at the red-haired advisor. “F-forgive me,” He stammered, “I was thinking about... Troop movements.”

Josephine stifled her chuckle politely against her sleeve, but Leliana merely smirked coolly.

“Perhaps your thoughts would offer some insight into the siege crisis, Ser?” Leliana cocked one brow, shifting her weight easily to one leather-clad foot. “For it would seem that Advisor Montilyet and I cannot agree on how to proceed.”

Cullen’s gaze shifted uneasily from the two advisors on either side of him back to the Inquisitor’s flushed face. “I-I doubt that you would appreciate my contribution. For I fear that diplomacy would not appease the rebels any more than a secret envoy of assassins would.”

“I happen to agree.” Laela Trevelyan eased away from the wall, her long legs crossing the distance to the war table with ease. Her silk coat wrinkled attractively at her narrow waist as she indicated toward one of the markers dotting the map. “Cullen is right – diplomacy is not going to serve us this time. The rebels have already made it quite clear that they have no intention of talking.”

“And I suppose that you would prefer us to send a squad of soldiers to quell the rebellion?” Josephine shook her head.

“By moving quickly we may yet preserve the lives of innocent hostages,” Cullen countered hotly, his amber eyes flashing. “Leaving the rebels to their own devices will only allow them more time to plan their strategy. If we attack them soon, we could still hope to save some of the villagers.”

“Or,” Leliana offered, “We do exactly the opposite: Let the rebels sit for a few days, wait until they let down their guard. My spies could quickly remove any threat of hostile action without risking the hostages.”

“Neither option is likely to lead to a _peaceful_ resolution,” Josephine insisted, setting down her quill and casting aside her scroll furiously. “What can you hope to achieve by inciting conflict with conflict?”

“Perhaps the best course of action,” Laela interrupted, silencing all parties with the raising of her fine hand, “Is to send in a reconnaissance team as Leliana suggested. However, we should send along a small group of soldiers as well. That way we can assess the situation, predict potential outcomes and spot weaknesses in their defences. From there we’ll send in agents to rescue the hostages. It is subtle, it is efficient, and it risks as few lives as possible. Agreed?”

The advisors nodded solemnly, and Laela waved her hand in dismissal.

Leliana and Josephine collected their files and moved toward the door, but as Josephine moved to latch the wooden door behind her, Leliana’s hand shot out.

“No, leave it ajar a moment.” The spymaster pressed her ear to the gap.

“What are you doing?” Josephine hissed, eyes widening in astonishment.

“Haven’t you heard?” Leliana smirked, her whisper so quiet that Josephine had to lean in to hear. “The guard told me that just a few nights ago Ser Cullen and Inquisitor Trevelyan were in the great hall. Apparently their...” She mulled over the right word, “ _Exertions_ were so powerful that they had the night sentry believing there were intruders in the keep.”

Josephine’s eyes widened, her olive complexion reddening. “Maker—” She elbowed Leliana, shoving the redhead across to allow her to huddle at the door too. “Well now, Sister Nightingale, if that is the case I simply cannot allow you to keep _all_ the action to yourself.”

 

* * *

 

 

Cullen’s eyes followed the retreating backs of the other advisors, waiting patiently until the door behind them had swung shut before turning a searing glare on Trevelyan.

“What in Andraste’s name were you trying to do back there?” He rumbled quietly, his brows furrowing together in frustration.

The Inquisitor was straightening papers on her side of the table. She continued on her business nonchalantly, barely batting an eyelid at his outburst. “And what exactly is it that you think I was doing?” One corner of her mouth lifted in silent amusement.

“That – right there!” Cullen pointed accusingly at her lips. “Don’t play coy with me, Laela. You have been smirking at me all afternoon.”

“You didn’t seem to object earlier.”

“I—” Cullen faltered as Trevelyan sauntered over to the nearby bookcase. His eyes drifted to her hips, which she was deliberately swaying for his benefit. Gritting his teeth, he finished, “I _couldn’t_ object. We were in company.”

Laela shelved her books, turning upon him with a twinkle in her eye that could only be described as conniving. “Oh Cullen, I’m not blind. I could tell how much you appreciated me.” Her gaze wandered down to where his hands still concealed the telling bulge beneath his belt buckle.

Cullen’s eyes narrowed. “What would you have asked of me?” He demanded in a voice husky and dangerous. “Would you rather that I had acted on your torment in front of the others instead? Because if that is what you—”

“ _Cullen_ ,” The Inquisitor cut him off unexpectedly, spreading her hands on the opposite side of the war table. Her cheeks quirked calculatingly, and with one elegant move, Laela angled her shoulders forward, deliberately allowing Cullen a perfect view down the front of her fitted silk tunic. Her lips curled temptingly. “Command me,” She breathed.

He gaped slightly, his mouth opening to form an articulate sentence but to no avail. “What...?”

She arched her back, letting out a faint whine and stunning him into silence. Her tongue darted out to wet her lip before she repeated: “ _Command me,_ Cullen.”

He was mesmerized by the glistening saliva on her lips, the glow of her cheeks, the faint scent of her soap. But it wasn’t just her physical presence. There was something in her voice that plucked at the deep, winding threads of desire within him. The way she had used his name: twisting his title to transform it into an unequivocal expression of her need. Her ambitious smirk made him want to take her then and there.

And as Cullen stared into the depths of her eyes, he realised that was exactlywhat Laela was thinking too.

_Command me._

The words echoed in his head and without warning, Cullen swung into action.

Well-trained warrior’s arms snapped out across the table, sweeping the markers off the map forcefully. The pieces clattered to the ground, but Cullen did not care in the least. Grabbing Laela by the shoulders, Cullen half lifted the inquisitor onto the war table, his hands taking control of her slender frame with ease. He spun her about and pinned her shoulders against the map.

Laela gaped up at him helplessly, a thrill rushing through her as she realised how effective her words had been.

 “You should not issue a challenge to your Commander, Inquisitor,” Cullen rasped, breathing just as heavily as Laela, “If you do not expect him to accept it.”

Laela laughed breathlessly, “Oh believe me,” She stared up at him from beneath long, dark eyelashes, her chest heaving in an attempt to catch her breath, “I was counting on it.”

This earned her a deep growl, her lover bending over her from above. “You devious—”

“Clever,” Laela corrected swiftly.

Cullen glared at her in annoyance. “— _cunning_ little minx,” he amended, his fingers digging into her upper arms and holding her still beneath him.

The Commander angled down so that his nose brushed her chin before ravishing her mouth, drinking of her lips and relishing in every groan she delivered at the contact. His tongue swept into her mouth to claim more of her. Laela obliged him, her tongue thrashing against his in a battle for supremacy. Cullen held her fast, kissing her so intently that Laela could feel the burn of his stubble against her cheek when he finally broke away.

“Say it again,” He growled in her ear.

Laela blushed fiercely, staring up at him in awe. “Command me,” She whispered breathlessly.

Cullen nipped at her earlobe, clamping down on the flesh hard and making her cry out in shock. “Say it _properly_.”

Trevelyan fought against the urge to push him off her, to retake her freedom. But the scent of his sweat, the vibration of his voice against her throat, the broad expanse of those shoulders... Her whole form quivered at his tantalising proximity. “Command me, Cullen,” She urged.

“That’s better.” His hands relinquished their grip and he took a step back.

Laela’s face fell as he moved away from her, circling the war table slowly.

“Sit up,” He ordered her, watching her keenly from across the room.

The Inquisitor propped herself up on her elbows, a playful smile on her lips. “Very well, Commander.” She unfurled her body from its prone state, her eyes never once leaving his.

Cullen rounded on her, pacing a few feet from where she balanced against the edge of the table. “Unbutton your tunic.”

Laela’s hands instinctively rose to do his bidding, hovering malignantly above each silk-covered toggle. She allowed her outer garment to hang open, guiding it inch by inch until at last it swung apart to reveal the skin of her chest.

Cullen stopped, his jaw clenching at the sight of her bare flesh. His eyes wandered hungrily down the curve of her exposed cleavage. “You’re not wearing a breast-band,” he observed. “You _wanted_ this.”

She did not reply, instead, reaching up to trail a single finger down her throat.

Cullen’s hand reached out to snatch it. “Now, Inquisitor, did I permit you to do that?” He growled.

Laela shifted back so that her knees bumped the edge of the table. “No,” She admitted, a rosy tinge spreading across her cheeks.

“No what?” He persisted, stepping close enough that she could feel his breath coming in gentle rushes against her hair.

“No, Ser Cullen,” Laela murmured.

“Good.” The Commander stepped between her legs, tracing his fingers along the edge of her open blouse, shivering as he made contact with the curve of her full breasts beneath the fabric. “Tell me what you’re thinking,” He told her, that deep voice commanding obedience.

Trevelyan whimpered faintly, her eyes hazy with want. “I’m thinking about how your brows arch when you want me,” She managed, her throat constricting at his touch. “I am thinking about how it feels when you growl against my skin.” Laela hissed when Cullen dragged his thumb lazily over her nipple. “Your… your strokes are torture, Cullen. I can’t… Ah!” She lifted a hand to try and touch him, but Cullen pushed it away.

“You do not take orders well, Inquisitor,” he chastised, scowling reproachfully. “It seems I shall have to teach you discipline.” Cullen pushed her back beneath him, leaning over her and covering her soft body with his. His fingers roamed down her stomach, hovering along the edge of her trouser waistband. “Confess to me,” He snarled, licking at her throat, “Tell me what you were thinking before, when you were,” Cullen paused, dipping his fingers under the hem of her pants before hissing, “ _Touching me_ like that in front of the others.”

Laela moaned, clutching at his pauldrons desperately. “Touching you?” She teased, rubbing her knee against the hardness of his groin, “Now I’m touching you…”

Cullen rose up with a furious roar, his chest heaving with pent-up frustration. “You told me to _command_ you, Laela Trevelyan, and _command_ you I shall. Now answer my question!”

She bit down on her lip, scrambling to get away in his momentary distraction. “I was thinking,” She trilled, skipping around behind him and moving toward the door, “About how glorious you look when you blush.”

“You—” Cullen rolled his shoulders, the fur arching around his neck portentously, “—shall find that you cannot break me so easily, Trevelyan.” He stalked her, hemming her in and pressing her back towards the door. “I order you to come clean with me once and for all – what were you doing back there?”

Laela shivered, “Would you like me to demonstrate...?”

Cullen growled again, “No, I want you to tell me.” He clenched his teeth when he felt waves of power roll off her body, the air tingling and the distinct smell of ozone filling the air. “Laela,” He warned, flexing his fingers in preparation, “ _Don’t_.”

The magic intensified, Laela’s eyes glowing faintly as the cool, white tendrils of her power blazed and flickered to life around her skin.

And that’s when Cullen felt it – an invisible hand grasped his length, stroking him, squeezing him. It was as though Laela was reaching out to him with her magic. Unseen hands caressed his form, scratching at his back, clawing at his shoulders, clutching his rear... The most powerful hand ran one finger along the tip of his member, and Cullen choked. He stopped mid-step, breath caught in his chest. “Laela—” He warned, that furious red tinge returning to his cheeks. “ _Let go_.”

The mage laughed in gratification, “ _That_ is what I was doing to you,” She told him then, stepping close and threading her glowing fingers through his hair. “Only this time, I won’t be so subtle.”

It took all of Cullen’s strength to lift his head, those flaming eyes burning into hers. “Laela Trevelyan – release your hold on me. Now.”

She obeyed, and instantly Cullen’s shoulders sank in relief. He stood there in the centre of the room, his body shivering as he fought to regain control of his urges. Then, with cat-like agility, he pounced, tossing her back against the door and pinning her there. He captured her hands in one of his, locking them against the wood above her head. Beneath their combined weight, the door slowly inched shut. The latch clicked, and Cullen’s ears pricked when he thought he heard two disappointed moans, but Laela’s lips on his drew him away from the fleeting disruption.

“I’m right here,” she whispered, tugging on his lower lip mischievously, “ _Command_ me, Chantry Boy.”

“Tell me,” He began, leaning his head low to gaze into her eyes, “What you want me to do to you.”

Since they had gathered the courage to confess their mutual attraction, Cullen’s desire for Laela had only intensified. But the Inquisitor was not a demure woman by any means. Her personality was strong, and her methods, while being unconventional, were intriguing. Her very name demanded respect, but it was not merely her title that drew him to her. It was all of her. She had demonstrated before that she too had firm ideas on dominance and submission, just as much as he did. Now he was curious to know just what she wanted from him – and how she wanted it.

“I want you to kiss me until I can’t breathe.” Laela arched her back against him, pressing the bare strip of her torso against the cool metal of his breastplate. “I want you to take off that wretched armour and then,” She emphasised her point by wrapping one leg around his, “I want you to take me so hard that I’ll be begging you for mercy.”

Cullen’s ears burned, but her thoughts were almost exactly aligned with what he had been planning. “Start by removing your jacket,” He hissed, stepping back and reaching up to unclasp his cloak.

Laela obeyed, her eyes glinting black as he put some distance between them. _Maker’s breath,_ he thought in awe, his eyes locked firmly on Laela’s mounds when she let the fabric fall from her shoulders. Her long dark hair, now freed from the restraint of her tall collar, cascaded about her waist, framing her golden skin as though it were an exquisite canvas painted just for his pleasure. Cullen suddenly felt grateful for the gap. The sight of her lithe curves and supple breasts was a powerful temptation. His fingers shook, struggling to remove his pauldrons without dropping them.

 “Now,” Cullen was trying to take his role very seriously, despite the encompassing grin on Laela’s face. “You are going to stay where you are and unlace your trousers.”

She did as she was told, a fierce blush working its way from the point where she bit her lip right up to the bridge of her sun-kissed nose. Her hand slipped down the front of her body; long, delicate fingers plucked at the stays of her breeches slowly and deliberately. Cullen found himself wishing she would remove them faster just so he could end the torture that he was now imposing upon them both. Though mere moments passed between the command and its culmination, the passing of time was unbearably slow. But at last Laela unbuckled her belt and drew aside the laces of her trousers to reveal what Cullen had begun to suspect – she currently was not wearing _any_ smallclothes.

He took a deep, shuddering breath, struggling to maintain his posture. “Did you plan this?” Cullen demanded, his hands and voice shaking with the effort it took just to produce the words. When she did not reply, he curled his lip with mock fury. “Tell me the truth – you planned this all along.”

“Yes,” Laela admitted, reddening sheepishly, “I-I did.”

“You reckless, _wondrous_ woman.” He tossed away his breastplate, ignoring the loud clang it produced when it skidded across the stone floor. Cullen fumbled to grip each small buckle on his armour, focusing all his energy on removing his silver spoulders and his bracers as efficiently as possible. Once they too were discarded, he paused, his chest heaving in gulps of cool air. “I...”

The idea that was forming in his mind almost seemed too evil, too blasphemous to say aloud. And yet, the expectancy in her eyes...

“I command you to touch yourself.”

The words echoed around the room for a moment, and Cullen wondered if she had heard him, interpreted his order correctly. But when she blinked, her stunned lips falling open in surprise, he knew she had.

The mere thought of her beloved, mild-mannered advisor, desiring such a ruthlessly provocative act made Laela both aroused and terrified.  “Cullen—” She considered protesting, but when she saw the look in his eyes, she didn’t dare. Steeling herself against the wooden door, the Inquisitor slipped her fingers beneath the opening of her trousers.

At first Laela was mortified. The idea of him watching her while she stimulated herself was a terrifying one. They had only been together a few days, and while throughout that time they had slowly begun to explore each other, learn each other’s desires; this demand made her feel vulnerable – exposed. She could barely move her hand at first, but when she saw the lust in his eyes, she realised that her vulnerability was not only enticing him, but also driving him to follow the same course of action. She ground her teeth together and allowed her finger to probe her wet folds.

The Commander’s legs shook. He could barely stand, stumbling back against the war table, enraptured by the mixed emotions flitting across her beautiful features. Laela’s hand had completely disappeared between her legs, the gentle rise and fall of her bosom and the rippling of muscle in her arm the only indicator of what she was doing. Her other hand shot out behind her to steady herself against the door. Cullen’s body promptly responded to the sound of a faint moan escaping her lips, his arousal visibly straining against the fabric of his clothing.

Laela’s eyes drifted closed, her torso arching into her own touch. “Like this?” She gasped, staring at him hazily through her dark lashes.

By now, Trevelyan’s bashfulness had fallen away only to be replaced by brazen yearning. It shone like a flame through her eyes; grew with each heated breath that escaped her open lips; radiated from her bare skin as though she herself were becoming a beacon of his need. Cullen felt like he had been reduced to little more than an ill fated moth drawn in by her brilliance, seeking nothing else but her touch and her warmth.

“Oh, Andraste, help me...” He cursed softly, tossing aside his red tunic and unbuckling his belt. The silver clasp protested when he tossed it aside, his own hand moving to grasp his shaft almost of its own accord. “L-Laela, tell me – when you t-touch yourself...”

“Maker’s breath... Cullen...”

He shuddered, his palm wrapping about his need and pumping it with painfully slow strokes. “D-do you see me?”

Laela nodded, her hair falling across her eyes. She was sighing quietly, her speed accelerating despite her previous reservations.

“Guide me,” Cullen clenched his teeth, enduring the ordeal being inflicted upon him from both his own touch and her moans, “Tell me w-what you’re doing...”

“Oh _Maker_ , Cullen,” The Inquisitor’s head fell forward then, a shuddering moan escaping her lips. “I... I’m so _wet_ for you...”

The sound pushed Cullen closer to the edge of that cliff, but he was not about to just topple beneath the strain. He dug his heels firmly into the cold floor, his fingers clutching at the edge of the war table. “ _Tell me_ ,” He ground out in frustration, the words sounding almost strangled.

She whimpered, “I’m running my fingertips across my folds – ah!” Laela’s hips rose involuntarily. “Parting myself... I’m massaging my clit, it... It burns, but it feels so _good_. I-I am imagining you... Not me... You kneeling before me and taking what you want from me.” Her breath was coming faster, and her eyes closed in concentration. “Oh Cullen I wish it were you and not me! I want to feel you!”

Cullen’s body protested violently, and he bit down on his lip to keep from shouting. His hand stilled in a desperate attempt to stem the tide of need that was welling deep inside him. “Tell me what you feel like, what I would feel if I were to t-touch you right now.”

“I’m... I’m so open...” Laela panted, her back rocking against the door wantonly. “So tight – so slick, just for you, my walls throbbing, _waiting_ for you...” Her dark eyes landed on his face then. “Cullen, make love to me.” The plea was fraught with desperation. She raised her other hand, reaching out to him. “I want to feel you, to be filled by you – I _need_ you to take me. Please.”

Her lover groaned, the distinct image of her lying open beneath him sending his arousal to soaring heights. Cullen burst forward, rushing to claim his prize. His hand cupped the back of Laela’s head, claiming her mouth, tangling his tongue with hers. He allowed himself to lave at her sumptuous nectar, greedily pilfering from her lips. Laela’s body trembled as Cullen pushed her weight between his muscular, still mostly-clothed form and the door, relishing in her cries and the way her skin tingled beneath his touch. Cullen tore free of her kiss, leaving her gasping raggedly.

“Do you want me to touch you?” He whispered teasingly against her ear.

“Oh yes, Cullen...”

He smirked in approval. “Tell me, Laela – tell me how much you want me.”

“Yes!” Laela was utterly intoxicated by his voice, her sinewy limbs aching to entangle with his. Her fingers danced across her sensitive sex. “Oh Maker yes...”

“Tell me you’re ready for me,” He maintained, staring resolutely into her eyes.

She mewled openly now. “I’m so wet for you, Cullen! Ah!” His palm joined hers at the apex of her thighs, guiding her movements in agonizingly slow strokes. “Cullen, please!”

“Do you want me to be inside of you?”

“By the Lady...” Laela circled her nub again, her eyes rolling back in pleasure. “I swear, Chantry Boy, if you don’t take me soon...”

Cullen finally snatched her hand out of her breeches, his talented fingers ridding her of her trousers and boots in just a few rapid movements. Laela stumbled, landing roughly against the door. She watched in amazement as he bore down on her, trapping her between the impenetrable surface of the grand door and his fiery gaze. His fingertips dug into the soft flesh of her hips, lifting her so that she had no other choice but to wrap her thighs around his waist. Cullen dipped his head to her bare chest, laying a trail of kisses between her pert breasts. Slowly he traced her dewy petals with his member, parting them gently and shivering at the sensation of her slickness coating him. Then, with a swift thrust, he entered her.

Laela almost sobbed in ecstasy, her muscles sending out spasms at the blissful intrusion. For several seconds, their bodies remained locked in an unsteady embrace. Cullen growled deep in his throat, her searing heat rocking his usual sense of balance. Laela snaked her agile arms around his neck and rubbed against him slightly, relishing the sensation of her liquid centre stretching to accommodate him.

“Oh yes,” she sighed, her hair brushing across his shoulder when she leaned in to kiss his neck. “Oh Cullen, I need more of you.”

“I-I’m not taking orders from you, Inquisitor,” He rasped, shifting slightly so that he could angle himself deeper within her. And yet, he didn’t move. A dangerously possessive glint appeared in the depths of those amber eyes. “Your body is mine. _Say it._ ”

“My body is yours, Cullen,” Laela repeated.

He reached up and pulled at her hair lightly, scraping his teeth along her jaw. “Louder!”

“My body belongs to you, Cullen!”

The Commander rewarded her by slowly drawing himself out of her. Then, he thrust his pelvis forward with staggering force, eliciting a strangled groan from the woman trapped beneath him.

“Tell me that you only scream like this for me,” He murmured.

“Oh yes... Yes... Only for you!”

Another plunging stroke had Laela scrambling for a surer grip. She dug her nails into his clothed shoulders, wishing that he too was naked so she could watch his stomach muscles flex. Already the sweat was glistening on his brow, his magnificently formed shoulders quivering in the effort it took to hold her weight and his restraint in check.

Cullen brushed his nose against hers. “I command you to scream my name.”

“Oh Commander!” Laela threw her head back and ground into him. “My Commander!”

That broke him. The last of Cullen’s self control disintegrated, making way for chaotic impulse. His pelvis rocked into hers with feverish excitement.  All he could see, all that he could think about, was Laela Trevelyan coming undone at his hand. He was already setting a strenuous tempo, the heat within him demanding that he plunge faster, harder, than he had ever done before.

“Chant for me, Laela,” He groaned against her sweat-slicked skin, “Chant my name as though I were your Maker.”

Her eyes opened, pure wonder shining up at him. “Though all before me is shadow – ah!” She clung to him when he drove into her again, wringing a wild cry from her, “Yet shall Cullen, be my guide... Oh, my Commander!” His enthusiastic touch against her sensitive nub made her buck against him feebly. “I shall—I shall not be left to wander...” Laela’s breath failed her. She buried her head against his damp shirt, inhaling his scent in the vain hope that somehow it would strengthen her against his onslaught.

Noting her weakness, Cullen cradled Laela gently and swept her across to the war table. Laying her gently back against the map, he angled her so that her hips were clear of the table’s edge and her legs could wrap comfortably – openly – against his core. He penetrated her once more, this time slowly, gazing down upon her rapturous face in awe. Cullen rested his hands on either side of her head and feathered adoring kisses over her open, trembling lips. He took up the chant, “I shall not leave you,” this point he emphasised with a caress, “To wander the drifting roads of the Beyond.”

Laela revived now, her hands slipping beneath his shirt and tugging it over his head. A smile burst forth at the sight of his well-built form, those sculpted muscles glistening with perspiration. Dragging her fingers down his core, she whispered, “For there is no darkness in my Cullen’s light.” Leaning up, she caught his mouth with hers, a shudder racking them both. “And nothing,” she finished, cupping his strong chin in her fine hands, “ _Nothing_ my Cullen has wrought, shall be lost.”

“Oh Laela,” He murmured, his fingers tangling in her hair, “When it falls from your lips, the canticle of tribulation nearly seems as though it was written for me alone.”

“Or perhaps you have inspired me.” The Inquisitor sighed with light-headed pleasure at her lover’s touch, letting her body give way to his ministrations. She watched through half-lidded eyes, her mouth falling open when he plunged so deep that her whole core contracted. The thrill from his driving movements blinded her, and it was all she could do to hold onto what little was left of her sensibilities. 

Cullen’s hand moved to brush against her cheekbone, “Open your eyes,” He rasped, “I want to see you.”

Laela whimpered but obeyed nonetheless, her whole body shaking beneath the bombardment of sensations. He filled her completely, every push forcing his swollen member to hit the deepest part of her. Cullen’s finger reached down to stroke her clit and Laela wailed desperately. Her thighs clenched tighter around his waist, trembling at the sensation of their bodies rubbing together so powerfully.

“Cullen—Commander! Ah!” She threw her head back against the map, writhing and choking out his name. “Cullen... Cullen...” Right then it was the only word she knew. She stared up into his eyes, her pupils dilated to the point that her irises were as black as midnight.

Cullen growled in warning. He all but pounded into her, urged on by her squeezing thighs and the torturous throbbing of her walls clamping down upon him. Laela’s fingernails dug into his back and the sting of her force only heightened his senses. He could feel that she wasn’t far away from reaching her peak, but Cullen knew he wouldn’t last that long. His whole gut felt as though it was on fire. The pressure mounting inside him was begging for release, and he could only deny it so long.

“Laela, I can’t...” Cullen growled, his gaze drifting to the place where they were joined. Every stroke left his skin coming away glistening with her honey. The sight of their bodies surging, pulsing with raw lust, was too much for him. His arms shook as he moaned, fighting his climax for as long as he dared.

“Please, Cullen!” His lover moaned against his cheek, and instantly he came undone.

The Commander surged into her, his hips pounding against hers so rampantly that he could feel his steel strike her womb. A glorious mixture of heat and ecstasy gripped him, and with a harsh cry he finally released within her. “Laela!” Cullen’s length quivered, bursting forth with undulating heat.

Beneath him, Laela gasped, her entrance trembling and clenching down upon him. Her hips rose up, grinding furiously against him, her mouth wordlessly begging for more. As her Commander filled her with his seed, she reached her climax. Laela screamed when she came, her walls tightening almost painfully around his shaft. Her muscles fluttered; each pulse crashing down like waves upon them both, drowning them in carnal fire and wringing every last ounce of strength from Cullen until he all but collapsed above her.

Their sweat-slicked bodies clung to each other, lying there weakly against the war table. For several minutes, all they heard was the sounds of their own breathing, the pounding of blood in their veins. It was only when her cool sweat dripped onto the map that Laela came to her senses. She pushed upon Cullen’s shoulders gently.

“We seem to be ruining the parchment, Commander,” she told him softly.

Cullen shook his head, sucking at her bare shoulder carelessly. “We already did,” The Commander corrected hoarsely. “Another few moments will not amend that.” He took his time, drinking of her skin and running his tongue along her contours. “So, how did it feel, Inquisitor, to be commanded?”

Laela hummed, “If you are always going to respond this fervently when I ask it of you, Cullen, then I shall have to beg to be commanded more often.”

He glared down at her knowingly, stealing one last kiss from her swollen mouth. “Next time, ask me with words – that magic touch of yours is _dangerous_.”

When Laela chuckled, Cullen realised that there was one trick that he would not be able to dissuade her from employing again. Not that he would mind... The result had been more than rewarding.

  

* * *

 

 

Leliana’s eyes flickered up from the pages of her book. She could not help but notice that the noises coming from the war room had reached a crescendo not too long ago, and now the room had fallen utterly silent. She slipped one long, slender finger between the creased pages of the text.

Josephine had noticed too. “Shall we pretend we did not notice?” The Antivan queried.

“That would seem to be the best plan,” Leliana agreed, “It is best they did not know. After all, it is only... a rumor.”

Montilyet nodded, her dark eyes laughing silently. “And who knows where these rumors come from after all.”

“Indeed.”

Both women’s heads whipped about as the door down the hall creaked open. A few seconds passed before Laela Trevelyan strode calmly past Josephine’s bureau, her curls smoothed, albeit loose, and her clothes only slightly rumpled. But when she turned to acknowledge the two advisors, neither could help but notice the healthy glow in her cheeks or the redness that had bloomed on her lips.

“Good evening,” The Inquisitor greeted them curtly.

“Inquisitor.” Both ladies returned the acknowledgement as gravely and politely as they could.

Trevelyan departed, and the advisors pretended to return to their reading.

Several long moments later, however, Ser Cullen made his appearance. His hair was ruffled and his pauldrons were slightly askew and by the sounds he had been making, he must have been still fumbling with his belt. It almost looked as though he had been fighting – there was a distinctive sheen to his skin, a firm blush in those cheekbones, and a definite limp in his step. He hesitated when he perceived the presence of his fellow advisors, his eyes widening and jaw clenching.

Leliana nodded in his direction. “I take it you saw to those troop movements after all, Ser Cullen?”

Cullen’s already red cheeks flushed even darker. “Uh... Y-yes, thank you.” His startled eyes flickered between the two smiling advisors. The realisation dawned on him painfully then, but there was little to be done for it. The Commander formulated a hasty escape.“G-good day...” With a clumsy bow, he hurried off down the corridor, leaving Leliana and Josephine to exchange knowing glances.

Josephine shook her head. “Do you know, Spymaster, I just realised something.”

Leliana’s eyebrow arched as she set down her book, “Oh?”

The diplomat clutched at her sides in laughter. “We finally _agreed_ on something!”


End file.
